


It's Always The Same

by Catchclaw



Series: Abacab [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, POV First Person, PWP, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:18:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam take turns driving this new thing between them, and man, is it good. A first-time story with dueling perspectives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Always The Same

**Author's Note:**

> Both boys offer their perspectives here, with Dean starting things off and Sam chiming in just behind.

**Dean**

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**Sam**  
  
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I can hear Sammy grinning over there in the dark.

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Which is cool, since I may or may not have played a large role in putting it there, that grin.

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Hah.

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And, ok, maybe I should be a little weirded out about the whole thing, but I’m not.

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I expected it, see? Anticipated it, even.

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I was one step ahead of him. As always.

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Heh.

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I guess I’m more concerned by the fact that he seems to have confused head-butting with kissing, but hey. I’m sure I can straighten him out.

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Or, ah. Something.

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Got a good start. Managed to lay one on him without getting my tongue bitten off, which, earlier, seemed a little iffy. So go team.

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All right, yeah, it’s true: I am awesome.

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Almost there almost there almost there, I think, and I’m starting to come down a little bit, starting to worry about what will happen when we get there. I mean—  
  
 

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Ok, we kissed, but that doesn’t mean anything, right? I mean, not really.  
  
 

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Maybe we should talk about it.  
  
  
  
  


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Yeah, we should definitely talk about this, about whatever this would mean for us. For the job. Because, I mean, we should both be clear on our expectations going in, right? Don’t want to fuck things up anymore than they would be if we---  
  
I don’t know what’s gonna happen, when we get there. When we’re in the same room, the same space or whatever, and I can touch him. Really get my hands on him, this time, and maybe, if I feel like it, let him do the same for me. Maybe.

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But one thing we are sure as hell NOT doing: and that’s talking. No way in hell are we having any sort of sit-down chat. No tea, no crumpets, no “tell me about the incest bunnies, Dean.” None of that shit, ok? Because, c’mon. Please. Like that’ll make any damn bit of difference except piss me off and probably weird Sam out—even though this was all his idea, damn it—and I don’t wanna go all Hulk on his ass right now.

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Yeah, ok. We should definitely sit down and talk this over, before things go any further. Get everything straight.

 

 

Or, ah. Something.  
  
 

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Hmmmm.  
  
I look over and Sam’s lookin’ all thoughtful and ponderous and oh shit, no, see, I knew it—damn it!

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“Goddamn it,” I yell at him. “Sam, I swear, if you’re going Oprah over there I will punch you the fuck into next week.”

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“Goddamn it,” Dean barks all of a sudden, his voice snapping the dark in two. “Sam, I swear, if you’re going Oprah over there I will punch you the fuck into next week.”  
  
 

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“What?!” I say.  
  
 

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“You heard me,” he huffs. “I mean it, dude. Don’t freak out on me here.”  
  
 

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He makes a hard left and all at once we’re here.  
  
 

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“Dean,” I say, “I’m not freaking out. I don’t know what you’re--“  
  
 

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“Oh, really?” he says, squealing into a space. He shuts her down, turns to me. “Tell me you’re not thinking that we should have a talk or some shit like that.”  
  
“Uh,” Sammy says, and bingo! I knew it.

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“Uh,” I manage.  
  
“Damn it!” I huff. “Look, dude, what is there to talk about?”

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I open my mouth to--  
  
 

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“Don’t answer that!” he shouts.  
  
And before he can say anything, can come up with some bullshit response or whatever, because I can see the fucking wheels turning, I push myself across the seat and kinda fling myself into his lap, which, ok, not terribly elegant, but it gets the job done, puts me right up against his mouth and I kiss him again, harder than before, try to suck all of the oxygen out of his brain, drive all his dumb talking crap away and give him my tongue to think about instead, which. Yup. Oh, yeah, he seems ok with that plan.

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And before I can respond, can even figure out what the hell he’s talking about, exactly, he practically flies across the seat and swoops up into my lap, which, ok, weird, but then he kisses me, again, and my brain kinda cuts out—  
  
And he behaves himself; let his head fall back and lets me drive, which is how it should be. For once, the little bastard does what he’s told, does what my mouth tells him to do.

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And fuck, is he aggressive, and damn if it isn’t amazing, and man, he is just gonna be a complete dick about this, isn’t he? I can practically feel him preening, patting himself on the back as he’s kissing me. He’s got one hand wrapped around my face, turning it like a wheel in his fingers, and he reaches down with the other and grabs one of my hands, slaps it on his hip, and ok, yes.  Yes yes.  
  
Mmm hmm. Yeah, he does.

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And my head hits the windshield and oh yeah, we’re outside, aren’t we? We’re in the fucking car in the middle of a parking lot lit up like crazy and this is probably a good time to get inside, before things get too, uh, good. So I yank my head back and he makes this awesome noise which, again. Proof that I am a fucking amazing kisser. Hah!

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He pulls away, gasping, and I groan, a little, and he grins down at me, the cat who ate the canary.  
  
“Sam,” I say, my voice all steady and calm. “We need to go in. Like, now.

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“Sam,” he says, his breath fast against my face. “We need to go in. Like, now.”  
  
I don’t wait for him to respond, just turn off of his lap and peel out the driver’s side. Don’t wait for him, either, just go right to the door, key in, go in. Wait.

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He is up and off and out before I can even move, and I scramble out, trailing in his wake which I know he must fucking love, the bastard. I make it inside, close the door, and he’s standing there like a damn peacock, coat off, arms open, which. Should probably not make my face crack open like a complete dork, but oh, yeah. It totally does.  
  
I don’t say anything, because what is there to say, exactly? Just go to him and wrap my arms around his big stupid tree trunk of a body and his head kind of tumbles down towards mine, his mouth open and swaying, and that says just about plenty to me.

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Says he wants it, wants me, which is hilarious, for some reason, so I make him wait, give him just enough tongue, just enough teeth, just enough me to make him shake, make him want, oh shit, yeah—

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I’m gun shy now, I don’t want to hurt him, hurt me, like I did before, don’t want to bleed all over him, just want to, god, Dean, come on, jesus—  
  
Because I know what he wants, and goddamn it, he’s gonna have to ask for it. Beg, maybe. Hmm. And that’s maybe a little appealing, what can I say? He thinks he can smack me around, huh, well. We’ll see what he says when he’s on the damn floor, his hands on my hips and oh, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about that just now, I—

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And it doesn’t even matter, anything else, ever, just—oh—come on, damn it, just—  
  
He’s impatient, and it’s awesome, and I can feel him fighting himself, wants to fucking shove his tongue down my throat but no, no, too scared, always too scared, Sammy, so let me, let me take it from you, I’ll do it so you don’t have to be scared—

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Yanks me into his mouth with his teeth, lets me taste him, makes me and ok ok ok—  
  
Fuck, Sam, fuck—

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Oh god yes.  
  
Wait, is he growling?

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Oh my god, he’s totally growling and holy shit, that’s hot, oh—  
  
He lets me go, grabs my wrists, pulls me back and, wait, I—what is he—hey!

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I let him go, reach down and grab his wrists, pull him back into me and bury my tongue in his mouth, fuck, yes, don’t let him move or breath or think, just take what I want from him, what I can’t have, what I shouldn’t be taking and that—oh, yes yes, Dean—  
  
And I can’t breathe, you bastard! Hey! Stop it, I can’t—

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And he’s struggling and that shouldn’t make it better but it does, oh it does and I yank his arms up, lock them between us, make it harder for him to move to get away from me, fuck—  
  
Goddamn it!

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I slam my head forward, catch him in the nose, and he snaps back because he has to, but—

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And the bastard fucking head butts me! Son-of-a--!  
  
He doesn’t let me go, just tugs me back so his melon can hang right in my fucking face and he stares at me, and it’s this totally weird expression I’ve never seen, and ok, little creeped out here ‘cause I don’t know what’s happening, exactly. Kind of gone off book here, Sammy, what—? I’m supposed to be the one who’s one step ahead here, dude, by law or something, right?

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My head snaps back, automatically, trying to protect me from him but I don’t let him go, hold on tighter, get a good look into his eyes, now, and he’s panting, his face hot and his mouth slack and I kind of shake him, watch him fly around between my fingers, and ohhhh hey. What do you know?  
  
“Now who’s the one who’s freaked out?” he whispers, and damn if that doesn’t crack me open, a little.

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“Now who’s the one who’s freaked out”? I say, maybe a little too loud, and something shifts in his face, like a cloud across the moon, or something.  
  
“Sammy,” I say, and ok, I kinda sound, well, tremble-y or something dumb like that, which makes no sense because, hey, I may be off a step for a second, but this is my game, I’m the one who’s leading here, not The Jolly Green Giant, right? So all I have to do is just get out from under his eyes for a second so I can think, so I can—

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“Sammy,” he says, and he sounds like he’s gonna break, or something, and that is freaking amazing, and oh hell yes, he’s gonna break. I’m gonna break him.  
  
But he drops my arms, grabs my shoulders, plants me down, drops me before I get a chance to think or react or even blink, and I’m staring right the fuck at his crotch, and wait, this is backwards, damn it, he’s supposed be down here, god, not me, not—

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“Dean,” he says, ok, he purrs, or something, and it is so not a huge turn on to hear that voice coming out of that mouth, the one that only ever says how come? or why do we have to? or you’re wrong. And he’s holding on to my shoulders, pushing me down, or else I’d totally be smacking that voice out with my tongue, goddamn it, but he’s holding me so all I can see is—

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He pushes his hips forward and there’s no fucking mystery here, Daphne, no no none at all, god.

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“Dean,” he growls again, voice lower and darker and how the fuck is that possible, exactly? “Suck my cock.”

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“Sammy!” he yelps, his voice high and shocked and so turned on that even I can hear it, can recognize it, and goddamn, does it sound good.  
  
 

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“I’m sorry,” I hiss, grabbing his head, yanking him forward. “What part of ‘suck my cock’ did you not understand?” And just saying that, to him, hearing the words fall out of my mouth, just watching his face ripple and shift like that makes me—oh—  
  
And all right, look, fine, I’ll suck your cock, you bastard, goddamn it, I’ll fucking drop you down, you cocky son-of-a-bitch—

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He attacks my zipper, pushes everything out of the—god—  
  
And yeah, he’s hard as hell, which, hey, he’s been kissing me, right? He’s only human or Sasquatch or whatever and I slide my hand up and back and it feels kind of interesting, nice and different and I don’t know what I was expecting, exactly, but it’s good and so are the noises that he’s making over my head, somewhere up in the fucking stratosphere or whatever, which, yeah, remember who’s in charge here, Sammy—

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And he’s just teasing me, goddamn it, how did I know he wouldn’t just do what I tell him, shit, but my mouth is kind of not working, feels like it’s full of Novocain or something, so just push my hips forward, towards his mouth, pull his head into try to make them match, please, just—  
  
Ok, ok, fine. Fine.

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I sort of tug him, a little, enough to give me some kind of angle I can work with, and pull him over my tongue, stroke him with my lips and hey, ok, sure, I can do this, I can—

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And he moans or something, so loud I can hear it in my teeth, but he’s good, now, doesn’t try and choke me, which honestly, he kind of could with this thing. I kind of try and reverse engineer this whole scenario, try and figure it out on the fly and oh, right, wrap my hands around his hips and kind of get my balance a little better. Take more of him in and ok, now this is more like it, me driving his body like this, turning him so he fits, holding him gently but not too, letting my mouth take the curves just fast enough so I can hold onto him, so I can feel him as he vibrates under my hands, against my tongue.

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Holding him, holding—oh, god, I can’t—  
  
It’s different, like this. But nice. His smell. Hearing him sigh and groan and all of that stupid aggression, that completely wrong sense that he could tell me what to do is gone, now, and it’s just him and me and I want him to touch me so fucking bad that it’s making me a little crazy, honestly, make me take him harder, suck him faster, push him to come god just fucking come in my mouth already you stupid bastard, god, please, want to feel you fucking lose it inside of me, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, Sammy, jesus—

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He starts cursing and shaking and he’s close he’s so close and I’m so hard for him god I don’t even think twice just suck and stroke and pull and swallow until he finally ignites, thank god, clamps his hand in my hair and floods my mouth all at once. Says my name in this way that makes my cock think this would be a great time to join the party which no no no, not like this no—

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I feel my mouth fall open and hear a long stream of “Fuck, Dean. Oh, fuck, yes, oh, god oh god oh Dean--"  
  
 

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And I open my eyes, stare down at him and it’s like looking into the sun, for a second, this hot white corona around him and god, I get really stupid when I come, don’t I? Heh.  
  
He’s swaying and stupid and grinning ear to fucking ear, and ok, go me, but shit, I can’t wait anymore, goddamn it, can’t—

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He slide me out and springs up like a cat, kinda, his tongue sliding over his lips and wow, he’s kinda pretty like this and I’d really like to kiss him again, yes, yes I would—  
  
I grab Goofy and march him backwards until he falls back on the bed, all gleeful and fucking dumb with his jeans open and all his stuff spilling out and I kind of fall over him, kiss him hard, fuck his mouth, make him taste himself on my tongue.

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Kissing me! Yay! Kissing is awesome, even when he’s being so bossy, yes. Get one arm around his waist, stroke his neck with the other hand. And he seems to like that. Makes a funny noise that doesn’t sound like Dean at all and bites my lip, a little, sucks on my tongue like he sucked my cock and ok yeah that was good. Really really good so he can have this, can have me like this.  
  
 

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He makes that noise again, heavy in his chest and his hips and oh, hey, he’s really hard, right there, isn’t he? Hey. I let go of his neck and run my fingers over him, over his cock, and he cries out, I mean really kind of screams a little and sits up. Straddles my hips and pushes himself into my fingers and that is pretty fucking cool, right there, watching that. Watching him, like that. He looks like he’s gonna fucking fly apart and just the promise of that is fantastic. Wow.  
  
There aren’t any words, there aren’t, I swear, just his fingers against me and oh fuck, fuck me, I’m gonna come like this goddamn it Sammy, yes—

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He leans back, yanks off his shirt, grabs my free hand and slaps it on his side, so I hold him with one hand and just barely touch him with the other, and even through his jeans, behind the zipper, I can tell he’s close. So close, oh. And I wanna see, damn it. Wanna see him. So I stop stroking, fucking yank everything open until he’s in my palm and he— I don’t even know, he kind of flies up and groans and grins like a complete moron and this flush shoots up his chest and I have to grab his hip, hold him steady as I tug at his cock, try not to hurt him but he’s shaking so hard I’m afraid I might and—  
  
“Sammy,” I say, I breathe, I whisper.

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“Sammy!” he bellows, his body spinning over me, his come pouring out and over my hand, and he is beautiful, totally fucked out and ethereal and god I love you, you stupid bastard.  
  
Everything falls out of me and I pitch over, feel like stretched out Silly Putty, kind of fall onto him, and he catches me, lays me down, gently, because it’s Sam, and how the fuck else would he lay his lover down and wow, ok, need to stop that right now. Totally not going down that road. If anyone is anyone’s lover here, he’s mine, goddamn it. He. Belongs to me. Ok?

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“Ok?” Dean mumbles against me.  
  
 

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“What?” I say, sitting up a little. Tugging off my shirt which is totally sticky and as much as I’d like to rub his face in it that seems a little mean, given how fucking out of it he is which, again. Awesome. He is like stupid happy which I am gonna give him no end of shit about.  
  
And I am so totally together, right now. Happy and warm and everything, but kind of remarkably coherent, I think.

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Sammy says something, and wow, he’s completely out of it. I can’t understand him at all.

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Heh! That’s right, bitch. I’ve still got it. Whatever that is—

 

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Ha! Wait until I suck his cock. I’ll fucking smash him to pieces. And that will be awesome.  
  
  
  


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He turns into me, moves his mouth into my neck. Breathing heavy and slow. I tug his body closer, stroke his back, a little.  
  
Wait, I’m just—

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Oh, yeah. He’s so gonna be asleep in a minute.  
  
Hold on. Ok, that’s nice. I’ll just stay here for a second, let him get his requisite snuggle or whatever and then I’ll get into my bed and—

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Goddamn it, where’s my phone? The world needs a picture of this. Ok, I do.  
  
 

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I start giggling against his head, trying not to. Trying. Such a bad ass, Dean. Oh yeah. So fucking tough.  
  
Whazzit?

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He stirs a little and I stop, squeeze him, a little.  
  
Ok, ok. Just one more minute, and then I’ll—

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I close my eyes, reach over for the light, and I am drifting away, away away with his breath in my ear, sleepy and sweet.  
  
 

 

 


End file.
